


Field of Daisies

by leigh_adams



Series: Of Snogging and Broomsticks [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: rarepair_shorts, F/M, Makeup, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-30
Updated: 2011-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-28 12:21:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leigh_adams/pseuds/leigh_adams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was starting to get ridiculous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Field of Daisies

**Author's Note:**

> Part 10/13 of a prompt table for rarepair_shorts.

This was starting to get ridiculous.

Bouquets of daisies, their numbers now in the hundreds, littered every flat surface in her spacious townhome. The dining room table, the kitchen counters, the coffee table, her dresser, her nightstand, even the bathroom counters were covered with clusters of the innocent white flowers. It looked like a country meadow had sprouted in her home.

And it wasn’t just in her home. Her office, her shrine to her career, perfect in its immaculate order and its beautiful view over the Puddlemere pitch, was practically a greenhouse. Not only was her office covered in the flowers, but the front office was as well. Marly, her assistant, loved all the extra blooms, but Katie was ready to set fire to the next happy little daisy she saw.

Tossing her kit to her elf, Katie sighed and trudged upstairs. This had been going on for a week, and she was sick of it. Stewart had ignored her owls- she really hadn’t wanted to talk to him, but the bloody flowers _had_ to stop- and continued to send the damn things. In fact, every day he’d upped the ante; chocolate, a top of the line broom servicing kit, her favorite brand of leather polish for her kit, they’d all been sent to her home, waiting for her when she arrived.

She changed quickly into an old Gryffindor tee shirt and yoga pants, hardly in the mood to be fussed with her appearance. It wasn’t like her _looks_ were helping her any at the moment. Stopping for a second in front of the mirror, she paused to examine her reflection. Nearing her twenty-eighth birthday, her face was still unblemished, devoid of creases and lines that came with age. Yet there was an underlying look in her eyes that was hard to define. It wasn’t yet jaded, but it was close. It spoke of trust lost, the trust that she’d once given easily. Now, she kept it close to her chest and rarely gave it away.

 _You_ , her inner voice said, _are getting old_.

Crinkling her nose at her inner diatribe, Katie turned her gaze from the mirror and started out of her bedroom and back down the stairs. She was hungry and, if the delicious smells emanating from the kitchen were anything to go by, Nïx had fixed another delicious meal.  
She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she almost didn’t notice the person standing in the middle of her flower bonanza.

“What are you doing here?” she asked coldly, giving him a withering look.

“You haven’t answered any of my owls,” Stewart said simply, shrugging.

“Some people would see that as a hint. I thought you were supposedly a Ravenclaw.”

Stewart’s lips twitched in a self-deprecating grin. “What can I say? Some Gryffindor traits rub off when you date one.”

“You’re not dating one.”

Ignoring her blunt statement, he continued, “You like the flowers? I was going to send roses, but Angelina said you like daisies better.”

“Wha-Angie told you?” Katie sputtered. She was going to kill her best friend, that’s all there was to it. She didn’t _want_ Stewart’s apology flowers, dammit, and she certainly didn’t want someone feeding him inside tips.

“Mmhmm, and she told me that you like chocolate truffles with chili pepper the best of all, though you also like espresso ones as well. She also mentioned what kind of leather polish you like; De Luca’s, made and sold only in a tiny little shop in Positano- Signor De Luca said to bid you _buongiorno_ , by the way.”

She probably resembled a cod fish, but at that moment she didn’t care. Her mouth was hanging slightly open as she gaped at him. “You went all the way to Italy?” She’d known where the polish came from, of course, but she’d thought he’d merely placed an owl order for it.  
He nodded, smirking a bit now that she’d seemed to have sheathed her claws for the moment.

“And was force-fed homemade lasagna and prosseco for my trouble.”

Katie glared. “You know, you should’ve just stopped before that last statement.”

Stewart instantly sobered, though the corners of his lips remained upwards in a ghost of a smirk. “You never answered my owls,” he said, reverting back to his original statement. “You didn’t let me explain.”

“Explain what?” she snapped. “A picture’s worth a thousand words.”

“And my explanation is worth a lot more than that,” he countered, stepping towards her. “The blonde girl in the picture? Her name is Jasmin, and she’s my cousin.”

“Your cousin?” she asked disbelievingly. “Go ahead, pull the other one.”

Frowning, Stewart took another step closer and reached for her hand, folding her much smaller one between his hands. “She is; she’s from Australia, and I stayed with her family during the War. She just finished her honours study in Transfiguration and was here for a bit of a mini-break.” He could still see the doubt in her eyes, and with one hand, he reached up to brush a stray piece of hair out of her face. “That’s the truth, Kates, I swear it.”

Her gaze flickered downwards, then back up to his face. “Why didn’t you tell me that sooner?” she whispered.

“Possibly because I’m an idiot, but more probably because you cast a Silencing spell on me,” he teased, lacing their fingers together. He was appropriately somber as he cupped her cheek, running his thumb over her smooth, soft skin. “I’m not him,” he whispered. “Don’t punish me for his mistakes.”

Katie’s eyes fluttered shut, her breath catching. “Stewart,” she breathed softly. Anything else she might have said was cut off by his lips pressed against hers. A soft little whimper sounded in her throat as she slid her free hand up to fist in his hair, holding his lips to hers. Everything, all the pain and the hurt, all the misconceptions and snap judgments, faded away until there was nothing else but this moment; there was nothing but Katie and Stewart.

And in that moment, all the world was right again.


End file.
